


Hazardous Caterwauling

by chicapanzy



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mild Language, Nudity, Silly, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24085528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicapanzy/pseuds/chicapanzy
Summary: Spock's meditations are disrupted by a rather unpleasant sound of singing. One shot silliness with the boys.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	Hazardous Caterwauling

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I don't own Star Trek or its characters. I make no money off of this stuff, it's just all in good fun.

Patience seemed to be a trait that was hardwired into every Vulcan in existence. If Spock allowed himself, he’d take great pride in the amount of patience he exhibited on a daily basis. Being both a science officer and first officer to his captain involved a lot of work, sometimes more than can physically be handled at once. Problems arose that could put one to the test in so many ways, creating the kind of stress that could undo someone with weaker constitutions. Spock, like so many crewmembers of the Enterprise, was the kind of officer that could take a beating and keep on going.

While he took the Vulcan equivalent of pride in being this sort of officer, that did not mean that the job didn’t come with a price. Stress was a very real problem for many of the ship’s crew members, and Spock was far from exempt. The more recent source of Spock’s stress was a particularly hostile Tellarite ambassador that the Enterprise had the “honor” of escorting to Star Base 4. He had only been aboard the vessel for five hours and already Spock’s mental shields needed strengthening. After excusing himself (politely, of course) he retired to his quarters for the sake of much needed meditation.

As always, Spock lost track of time during his meditation. All too frequently hours passed by while he felt as though mere minutes had passed. What was that human colloquialism? “Time flies when you’re having fun”? Meditation could by no means be described as “fun”, but the passage of time certainly warranted comparison to the phrase.

It was during this passage of time that his captain, who still had much to do when Spock excused himself, returned to his own quarters and was utilizing their shared bathroom. While the sound of water cascading from the showerhead did nothing to disturb Spock (the captain chose to indulge in water showers rather than sonic when he was stressed), the unfortunate caterwauling of his superior officer jarred him from his peaceful introspection. 

_ My baby takes the mornin’ train, _

_ He works from nine to five and then, _

_ He takes another home again, _

_ To find me waitin’ for him~ _

Disbelief was the first emotion Spock experienced. In reality he didn’t know if he had truly heard his captain, a man of intelligence and charisma, a man who commands respect and attention in spite of his considerably rocky debut as an officer, singing what most likely was the most illogical song he’d ever heard. Really, he had no idea where to even begin attempting to analyze the lyrics of the song, nor could he conceive why such a song would be the captain’s song of choice for his impromptu shower karaoke session.

The disbelief was then followed with amusement and swiftly replaced with discomfort. While James T. Kirk was a man of many talents, it would seem that music was not among them. Spock cursed the inheritance of his father’s biology as his sensitive hearing was assaulted by the poor singing skills of his captain.

After a great deal of humming rife with dissonance, Jim launched himself into what was perhaps an even more illogical song of a different genre.

_ You betta’ lose yourself in the music, _

_ The moment, you own it, you betta’ neva’ let it go, _

_ You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow _

_ Cuz’ opportunity comes once in a lifet- _ OW JESUS FUCK!

To Spock's mutual relief and alarm, Jim’s singing was interrupted by an impressive string of explicatives.

“ _ Fucking fuck me goddammit mother-fucking fuck OW!” _

The cursing continued, occasionally switching into Klingon and Andorian, much to Spock’s surprise. Loud thumps echoed off the walls, accompanying Jim’s verbal displeasure, until all sounds were halted after a loud crash.

The protective instincts of a first officer kicked in before he could stop and logically assess the situation. He rushed to the door that led to their shared bathroom, input the lock override, and rushed inside.

“Captain, are you alright?”

Crumpled and twisted on the floor of the shower was a very uncomfortable and distinctly unhappy looking Jim Kirk. His legs flailed awkwardly above his head, leaving him quite exposed. The cause of his misfortune - an unassuming bottle of shampoo - had skittered out of the shower and into the middle of the bathroom floor. No doubt it was what led to the violent interruption of Jim’s shower concert, and ultimately what caused him to lay in a disheveled heap on the floor. 

Still caught up in the shock of his fall, Jim peered over at where Spock stood frozen in the middle of their bathroom. His eyes were the widest Jim had ever seen them, and if the stars in his eyes weren’t distorting his vision too much, he could have sworn there was the faintest of green in his cheeks.

Slowly the realization of his position dawned on him. Shock was replaced with embarrassment, dismay, and most of all modesty.

“Shit, Spock!” 

Jim wriggled his body about, which only served to flail his limbs awkwardly about without achieving much of anything. In the end he had to resort to falling out of the shower completely in order to right himself. Once he was positioned enough to get the proper leverage he pushed off from the floor and stood, his hands immediately moving to cover his privates. 

“What are you doing in here?!”

It seemed Jim hadn’t been the only one caught unawares. Spock straightened his posture immediately and stepped backwards until a more appropriate distance was put between them. He chose to look somewhere over Jim’s shoulder instead of making eye contact.

“My apologies, Captain. It sounded as though you were injured and I came to check on you. Are you alright?”

Even without Spock staring at him, Jim could feel a full body flush flare onto his skin. Still keeping himself covered, he used a hand to rub nervously at the back of his neck.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he stammered. “I dropped the shampoo on my foot and I kinda...got carried away in my frustration.”

The barest upward quirk of Spock’s mouth was the only giveaway to any amusement the Vulcan might be feeling. “Should I make a requisition for an alert button to be installed in case of future incidents with unusually hazardous hygienic products?”

Great, now Spock was making jokes. Jim didn’t know where to laugh or hide under his sheets in mortification. “That won’t be necessary, Commander.” The inflection of Jim’s voice made Spock’s rank sound more like “smartass”, simply because he knew better than to say something like that out loud in front of him. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to finish my shower with what little dignity I have left.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Of course, Captain. Forgive me for intruding.”

Jim snorted despite himself. “No Spock, if anyone should ask for forgiveness, it should be this damned shampoo bottle that attacked me in the shower.” He gave the bottle a swift kick with the side of his foot, as if doing so would make him feel a little better for what had just transpired.

Spock was about to say something about how inanimate objects could no more ask for forgiveness than it could actively harm anyone, but he felt an expeditious exit was called for. Without another word he backed into his quarters and let the door shut in front of him. He remained in place, staring at the closed door as if he was able to see through it. The image of his captain sprawled in an unnatural position on his back remained in Spock’s mind. He found the longer he focused on it the more his thoughts began to drift toward alternate possibilities.

Catching his thoughts drifting to the more inappropriate, he shook his head and forced himself back to his meditation pad. The last five minutes had just wrecked hours of meditation.


End file.
